his black cassock, as if she had done something
which she would not like to have a priest find out.

This made him spring to the conclusion that she had been brought up as a
Catholic, but was one no longer.

"I have called upon a lady who, I am told, is staying here," he
explained politely in French. "Miss Grant."

"Miss Grant?" Eve could not help showing that she was puzzled and not
pleased. "Yes, Miss Grant is visiting me," she admitted. Then, with a
sudden impulse which she could hardly have explained, quickly added:
"Unfortunately she's out. Is there any message you would like to leave?"

As she asked this question, Lady Dauntrey stared with almost
ostentatious frankness straight into the cure's face, and her voice had
lost its sharpness. She was dressed in purple velvet, and wore a large
purple hat. The rich dark hue gave her light eyes a very curious colour,
more green than gray; and as she stood on the doorstep, tall and somehow
formidable, the cure thought that she looked Egyptian, an elemental
creature who might have lived by the Nile when the Sphinx was new.

The afternoon sunshine streamed into her eyes, and caused her pupils to
shrink until they appeared to be no larger than black pinheads. Perhaps,
the cure acknowledged to himself, it was only this that gave them a
deceitful effect; nevertheless he felt suddenly sure that for some
reason she was lying to him. He did not believe that Miss Grant was out.

"This lady does not wish me to meet her guest," he told himself. But
aloud he said that he regretted missing Miss Grant; and there was no
message, thanks, except that the cure of Roquebrune had called again. He
was making up his mind to a certain course, and stood aside politely,
meaning to let Lady Dauntrey pass, and then follow her down the steps of
her villa. What he would do after that was his own affair; for with
those who are subtle it is permitted to be subtle in return. Lady
Dauntrey, however, seemed unwilling to let him linger. Instead of
passing him, she asked, "Are you coming my way?"

"As you tell me, Madame, that Miss Grant is out, I will go on to the
Church of Sainte Devote, which is not far away," the cure answered.

"Oh!" The slight look of strain on Lady Dauntrey's face passed, as if
her muscles relaxed. "Then we go in different directions. I am walking
up the hill to Monte Carlo. Good afternoon. I will remember to give Miss
Grant your message."

They parted, but Lady Dauntrey turne